


In Our Restless Minds (Chapter 1)

by TheHetastuckSpartanCat



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Intro, Mornings, Omnipotent narrator, Original work - Freeform, first chapter, i dont even know if ill post the whole thing tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 10:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10739823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHetastuckSpartanCat/pseuds/TheHetastuckSpartanCat
Summary: The day all these events were catalyzed, on a day thought to be the most eventful thing they would face that month. Suppose though, it started in a dreary morning thought to be normal, the slowly dying star holding the planet aloft in space rising over the lands just as it had been ever since the pitiful planet’s conjuration.





	In Our Restless Minds (Chapter 1)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I'll post the full thing, but here's the first chapter of what is becoming a literal novel-length story. Any and all feedback is welcome, let me know where I can improve, please!

I couldn’t tell you where it exactly started, this whole fiasco. It could’ve started millennia ago for all I know, but I don’t, and I’m willing to admit to my ignorance. Exposition shouldn’t be anyone’s strong suit anyhow, it doesn’t get anyone anywhere but a dull and bland story that you would be better off summarizing in one paragraph.   
But this isn’t my story, and it really isn’t mine to tell; I’m not one to follow rules though, as I know everything that happened either way. I was an observer, a Witness, and I still am. Some blame could be placed on me for what happened however long ago, or however long it will take, for the events that have or will happen. I wouldn’t be offended if anyone did, they don’t have very many others to blame other than themselves; it’s a godless world we live in no matter what priests may preach.   
But where do you suppose it truly started? The day all these events were catalyzed, on a day thought to be the most eventful thing they would face that month. Suppose though, it started in a dreary morning thought to be normal, the slowly dying star holding the planet aloft in space rising over the lands just as it had been ever since the pitiful planet’s conjuration.  
The music came softly at first, bubbly and gradual just as it was meant to be. The beat clapped and kicked into full swing, each synthesized instrument creating a crescendo that complimented the lyrics playing alongside them. The heavy beat thrummed out of tune with the buzzing of Milo’s phone against his nightstand. Each vibration made his ears ring momentarily, the song he chose making the sound bearable as it accompanied it. Rising from his bed slowly, he yanked his phone away from the cord it was attached to, and hushed his alarm. In the moment’s silence, he blinked away the few strands of sleep that clung to his mind like webs.   
Sunlight streamed in through his window that collected in pools of light around his room, some reflecting off the posters that lined his walls and into his eyes causing them to narrow from the painful glare. As he hunched over, his fingers traced his jawline while he clawed at an itch on the side of his face. The scruff on his face had grown somewhat overnight, but it wasn’t enough to bother giving a trim. His hand slowly reached up and brushed his duo-toned hair away from his eyes from a rich chocolate brown to blonde at the very tips, his shoulders rising with a deep breath. Throwing his head back, his mouth grew agape as he yawned loudly, almost as if he was trying to rival a lion. Through even his own pointed fangs couldn’t match that of a true cat’s.  
“Thanks for letting me know you’re finally awake from down the hall,” A familiar voice called from behind his door.  
“Yeah thanks Simon, real insightful. You’re wise beyond your years, to come up with something that I haven’t heard every day for the past few weeks already,” Milo called back to him. The man only laughed and turned the handle, then pushed the door in with a soft creak. His warm smiling face peeked in, the glow from the window catching on his glasses.  
“Remember it’s your turn to make breakfast,” Simon hummed.  
“Yeah yeah I know now please get out of my room I never agreed to you peeking in on me!” Milo told him, his ears pinned back and his tail lashing under the covers.  
“Ah ah ah, who built this house? But I still suggest you hurry up,” Simon told him, only to quickly slam the door shut to avoid the pillow that was hurled towards him.   
“You and the contractors you hired…” Milo muttered to himself, as he knew he wouldn’t hear him either way. Once he was gone, Milo threw the covers aside and swung his legs over the side of his bed. Each foot slipped into the monster paw slippers that were haphazardly strewn next to his bed. His movements carried him onto his feet as he pushed his body forward to lean down and pluck a mildly clean shirt from his floor. It was large, and loosely hung over his shoulders as he pulled it over his scruffy body.   
Shooting upright, he raised his hands far above his head and stretched once more. This time his dark shadowy tail followed suit and curled upwards. Once he let out another grunt, he relaxed and shuffled over to his nightstand adjacent to where he stood. His eyes laid upon his headphones, tracing along their cat-eared shape exterior complete with built-in speakers. With a trained motion, he pulled them off their stand and raised them up to his head. One hand reached up to the left side of his headphones, the other picked up his phone from where he left it resting on the bed.  
Turn the headset on, put on the only playlist he had, shuffle, go; it was something that was a part of his routine for as long as he could remember. Hundreds of songs on dozens of albums, each one some kind of EDM he was familiar with. A tossed salad of tracks, some by himself though mostly of the artists he adored. In the back of his mind he heard his music just loud enough that he could hear the lyrics and the beat, and yet soft enough to hear his surroundings.


End file.
